Page 44 of Claimed By the Damned

It was the right thing to do, even if it devastated her.

She didn’t want to go home. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why she was taking her time to close up the shop. The last thing she wanted to do was face her father after the day she had. But with nothing left to do, she sighed, gathered up the trash, and headed out the back to throw it away in the community dumpster.

The cooler air raised the hairs on her arms. She lifted the lid on the dumpster and tossed the garbage inside. When she turned around to head back inside, she spotted someone on the ground. At first, she froze, remembering the last time she encountered someone in the alley and how that went. But when she realized that this person wasn’t moving, she squinted into the dark shadows to take in the person’s features. She recognized those shoes. The thick, muscular thighs that showed even through jeans. And even though he was lying on the ground and his head was tilted in the opposite direction, she’d know that hair anywhere.

A hand flew to her mouth, and she took off toward the shadow, toward her mate. By the way Knox was positioned, it appeared as though he was trying to get to her shop when he collapsed.

She reached his side and dropped to her knees. “Knox!” she demanded, fisting his shirt and giving him a shake. When he didn’t respond, she took him in. He was still breathing, still had a pulse, but when she pried open his eyes, she realized that his pupils were the size of pinpricks. She knew in an instant that he was overdosing.

“Shit,” she hissed. “God damn it, Knox.” Digging into her pocket, she pulled out her phone. “You promised not to do this shit anymore.”

Quickly, she brought up Zeke’s number. She figured he should probably know what was going on before she called an ambulance. She dialed his number and brought it up to her ear. Zeke answered after the second ring.

“Hey, Princesa,” he purred. Chatter and music were playing in the background, so she knew he was at the bar.

“Zeke, you need to get down here. I think Knox is ODing.” There was an edge of urgency in her tone that made her even more scared. Her voice cracked with fear. There wasn’t any time for pleasantries, not when her mate’s life was on the line.

“Fuck,” she heard him mutter. “Where are you?”

“In the alley. Like, ten feet from my back door.”

“Don’t move, I’m coming.” He hung up the phone, leaving her alone with Knox’s unconscious body.

She shoved her phone back into her pocket. She wanted to shake Knox again, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. He was out, and Zeke told her not to move him. All she could do was sit there and whisper to him softly. “I swear, if you live through this, I’m going to kill you myself for what this is doing to me.”

The bar’s backdoor swung open and Zeke and Drake rushed out. They immediately spotted them and jogged over. Zeke was the one who dropped to his knees beside Amara, and he popped off a cap from a weird-looking syringe. A second later, he shoved the sponged tip up one of Knox’s nostrils and depressed the plunger. When he was done with that one, he did the same to the other side with a second syringe.

Amara rocked back and forth on her knees, her heart racing. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this afraid, not even when her father would raise his fist. She had only just found Knox, just accepted him and the bond between them, and she didn’t want to lose him now.

“Did you know he was using tonight?” Drake asked accusingly to Amara.

She looked up at him in disbelief, her cheeks hot and slick with tears she hadn’t realized she was shedding. Swiping them away, she growled, “Fuck you, Drake. I’m the one who asked him to stop using. And for the record, I wasn’t the one with him tonight. Where the fuck were you?”

Drake’s jaw flexed as he looked away.

“Fighting is pointless,” Zeke scolded as he tapped Knox’s cheek. “This is no one’s fault but his.”

Knox’s head lolled around, but they could hear the rumblings of a grumble in his chest.

“Is he going to be okay?” Amara asked.

“Yes,” Zeke answered softly, calmly, as if this had happened before.

She asked them exactly that.

“Unfortunately,” Drake grumbled.

Amara folded her fingers into Knox’s. “How long is he going to be like this?”

“The Narcan will help counter the effects of the drug,” Zeke explained, glancing once at Amara and Knox’s hand. His fingers were limp against hers.

Zeke raised a sad smile to her and added as he stood, “But he will be out of it for a little while. Let’s get him upstairs.”

Amara swiveled on her heels to Drake, her eyes set in determination. “I’m not leaving him.”

Lips thinned, Drake considered her carefully, and he must have seen the conviction in her expression because he subtly nodded. Satisfied, Amara let go of Knox’s hand.

Drake and Zeke lifted Knox off the ground by first pulling his arms so he sat in a lop-sided sitting position. Then they gathered him up from underneath his arms. Knox seemed to be coming around a bit as the four of them headed toward the bar’s back door. Amara hurried forward and opened the door for them. They rushed inside, went through the bar, ignoring the curious glances, and took the stairs up to the apartment.

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